


Morning Grace

by alexdamien



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexdamien/pseuds/alexdamien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little (pruaus-y?) fic about Prussia and Austria playing music. For Nekochanthekitty at tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Grace

Morning Grace.

 

Prussia’s eyes opened, and he blinked against the harsh morning light.  When he wiped his face, there was something wet on his cheeks, and he realized he had been crying.

And he was lying on the edge of a fountain, on some kind of garden.

He considered getting up.

On his chest, Gilbird stirred, and gave a soft peep.

Considering the leaves on top of him, he had been there for more than a night, but time flowed strangely through his mind now, so he didn’t try to figure out anything.

After another peep, Gilbird took flight, so Prussia got up.

He was in Austria’s back garden, and considering the lack of nagging, the little aristocrat hadn’t noticed his presence. Gilbird settled himself on top of Prussia’s head to continue his nap, and Prussia jumped to his feet.

A new day, whichever it was, waited for him.

#

Austria walked to his music room, score sheets in hand. He had felt tense for a few days now. A strange sense of tension surrounding his house that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Soft notes floated to his ears, and he dropped the sheets. Suddenly, the tension he had felt condensed into a single figure in his mind. He ran to the music room.

“Get your filthy hands off my piano!” he yelled, slamming the doors open.

Prussia sat at his piano, thoughtfully pushing keys. He looked up with a smug smirk and lifted a finger at him.

“Oy, little master. No shouting in the music room,” he said.

“Get up from there. My piano is off limits and you know it,” said Austria, stomping towards him.  Prussia kept smirking up at him, then lifted his wrist to glare at his watch.

“It’s almost noon. You are so lazy, it almost surprises me. Now hurry and sit in here. I want you to play something I wrote.”

“What? Are you joking?”

Prussia picked up a case from the floor and opened it to reveal one of Austria’s old violins.

“You little-!”

“Hush now, and sit down,” Prussia pushed him down on the stool and arranged a few music sheets on the piano. Next to them chirped happily that small yellow bird that always followed him around. Prussia often called him Gilbird, othertimes Mr. Awe Some O, and on one memorable occasion, Chickypics.

Austria sighed, and decided to just make the best of this annoying situation. It wasn’t the strangest thing he had demanded of him, that was for sure.

“Fine, fine, “ he said, cleaning inexistent dust from the top of his piano. “But what will you give me for playing for you?”

“My awesome presence, of course!” he said, and Austria growled and got up from the stool. Prussia rushed to stop him, holding him by the shoulders. “Alright! Alright! What do you want?”

Austria pointed at the little bird. “I want to know his name. His real name.”

Prussia’s hold on his shoulders hardened, and Austria realized his fingers were cold. Very cold.

“Ah, come on, that’s Glbird!”

Austria narrowed his eyes at him, and Prussia let go and turned away. “Names, names, what’s up with those? I’ve had like three!” he lifted the violin “Whatever, I’ll tell you. Why not? Geez, you’re so nosy!”

Austria smiled inwardly, then reached for the papers with the music. Still standing next to them, the litte bird seemed to be staring up at him with an intensity to his eyes that belonged in no true animal. Austria blinked, and the little bird took flight.

“Come on, get ready!” said Prussia, and Austria decided to not think about it anymore.

He read the ugly scribbling in front of him. It was surprisingly good. He had expected to play senseless notes.

“Fine, I’m ready,” he said after a moment. Prussia poked his cheek.”

“Are you sure? If you don’t play perfectly, I won’t tell you anything!”

“Prussia, I have played music for almost as long as you have wielded a sword. An instrument or composition I cannot play has not been invented,” said Austria. He had once performed dubstep half drunk in some shady club that Prussia had taken him to, just to prove that fact.

Prussia huffed. “Sure, just do it right”

With a small smile tugging at his lips, Austria nodded, and started playing.

He followed the slow notes that he had memorized. There was a bit of the Swan Lake, but then, Prussia had always liked Tchaikovsky, no matter how much he pretended to be indifferent.

 He felt there was something underneath the notes, but he couldn’t piece together a message. Perhaps because Prussia himself wasn’t sure how to speak with music. Austria stole a quick glance at him playing the violin against the tall window, captured in the flow of sound. A dark part of Austria’s heart wanted to keep him like that flowing through unending music.

Prussia captured with iron and fire. But Austria seized what he wanted in…subtler ways.

The song ended softly, almost as slowly as it had begun, and Austria found himself caressing the keys, feeling that he had almost managed to see one of Prussia’s veiled secrets.

“Ah, that was nice,” sighed Prussia. On top of his head, the little bird chirped. He left the violin in its case and opened the window. “Now, I leave!”

“What?!”

“Ah, I almost forgot,” he snatched the music sheets from the piano and went back to the window, where he started to get out.

“Stop! You said you would tell me his name if I played for you!” shouted Austria.

“Uh? His name? He doesn’t have one,” said Prussia, pointing at the little bird on top of his head.

“You lying bastard!”

“Don’t be so angry, little master! He didn’t have one, but when I took over him, I just called him مستشفى* Hewas my first land! A hospital, all to myself! Kesesese!”

He jumped out the window and was gone in a breath.

Austria stoon frozen at his piano. The bastard still managed to surprise him, even after almost a thousand year. He covered his mouth, so he didn’t have to see his reflection smile in the polished surface of his piano.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry but I don't know anything about music OTL  
> *Aaaah, the word in arabic is "Hospital" in reference that the Teutonic Knights had a hospital in Acre :P It is my headcanon that Prussia was born in Acre and his native languages are German and Arabic.


End file.
